


ara ma'athlan vhenas.

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Lore, Death Rituals, Gen, Grief, Mourning, set after In Your Heart Shall Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: fianna had never given much thought to the elvhen immortality, preoccupied with what her people had to contend with in this age but as she sits there in front of the freshly dug grave, her heart aches with the idea that her precious son could’ve lived beyond the time he was allowed.set post iyhsb, in skyhold. featuring mainly my First, fianna lavellan, mourning the death of her son ruari, who perished in the temple of sacred ashes.





	

the sky was a dark expanse of indigo and grey wisps of clouds, scattered with millions of tiny lights, stars dotting their path to unforeseen realms. a calm night by all accounts, the wind blowing softly with the barest hint of spring’s coming, no usual winter chill and for that, fianna was glad. the inquisition soldiers had retreated from the forecourt hours ago, going to their beds and others had followed their lead, all returning to their chambers and leaving the elven woman alone. 

fianna had never given much thought to the elvhen immortality, preoccupied with what her people had to contend with in this age but as she sits there in front of the freshly dug grave, her heart aches with the idea that her precious son could’ve lived beyond the time he was allowed. He was not in the grave she had knelt before, dug with her own hands, sweat and tears. his body lay, immortalized at the shem’s temple, his soul hopefully with their ancestors, with those he loved. ruari had believed as feverently as his mother, and with all her heart fianna hoped that her son had been peacefully guided to the Beyond, where he would be safe and loved. 

reaching beside her, the elven woman began to unwrap the carry roll, laying it out flat. in it lay an oaken staff, one of her older staffs that he had loved to play with as a child. beside that, a cedar branch and a pouch holding a collection of herbs and petals. vervain and ragweed, combined with anthurium petals, vivid red heart shape familiar even in the darkness. they had always been a common sight around the campsite of the lavellan clan, and keeper deshanna thought that they symbolized the love that kept their clan prospering. ruari would often bring her them by the bunch, covered in dirt and stray leaves as muddy hands thrust the bouquets at his mother, always a grateful smile on her lips as she took them with a kiss on the forehead and a murmured  _ ma serannas, da’len _ .

remembering those times hurt too much, and she tore her eyes away from the foliage, focusing herself on her magick instead. a soft glow encaptured her hands, a beacon of light in the darkness shrouding the forecourt. softly, gently, Fianna reaches out to grasp the old oaken staff, fingers playing along the length of the wood, curving around the notches, lingering on the protective charm her son had made for her. in barely more than a whisper, she sings as she starts the rite.

‘ _el_ _ gara vallas, da’len. melava somniar, mala taren aravas. ara ma’desen melar. _ ’ a lullaby, one she had used often to lull her child to sleep in her arms, lain under the stars, surrounded by their family. those times had been her favourite, her most cherished memories. even as Ruari grew into a strapping young man, settling into his role as one of the hunters with a teenage ego to go with it, every now and then he would come to his mother after supper, and curl under her arm, ask for her to sing to him again. always she would do so, she denied ruari nothing, allowed him the independence to grow and prosper, but also the comfort that she would always be there.

the soft glow of her magick travels up her forearms, dancing along pale, freckled flesh, trickling like water, calm and soothing. It also flowed downwards, into the dry wood of the staff, illuminating the runes engraved upon it. free hand reaching to the cloth roll, fianna grasps the length of vervain, bright violet petals rubbed against the length of wood before she placed both on top of the freshly turned earth. her song continued. ‘ _ iras ma ghilas, da’len, ara ma’nedan ashir. dirthara lothlenan’as, bal emma mala dir. _ ’ 

her son had always been so headstrong, so determined to do what was right, to protect his clan. traits he had inherited from his father, like those bright blue eyes, that roguish smile. she had always worried he would charm his way through the young girls of the clan, but he was of a good heart, had too much respect for his brethren to ever play so callously with their hearts. she had been so proud when he received his vallaslin on his eighteenth moon, the straight lines and strength of _andruil_ lovingly tattooed into the skin of his face. keeper deshanna had performed it, but allowed fianna to stay, as she had done with hael’s, celebrian’s and alessa’s. As the clan’s _first_ , she was as responsible for their care as keeper deshanna, and she cared for all the clan as though they were her own. when the ritual was over and ruari flashed his mother that smile full of heart and pride, her heart swelled inside her chest.

when he had offered to go to the shem’s conclave with hael, it froze. she would trust no one more than hael to make sure her son did not rush headfirst into foolishness, but that did not stay her worry. _this was the shem’s war_ , she had protested to deshanna, _why must we send our own to ensure that they do not raze us to the ground in their foolish arrogance?_  a hand on her shoulder, that gentle crinkled smile was the keeper’s response, before she went out to join the clan for dinner. fianna had sighed in frustration, worry clutching her heart in a vice grip, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. the woman turned on her heel, towards her tent, searching for her son. pulling aside the opening, she saw ruari sprawled out on his bedroll, fast asleep and drooling on the headrest. a small choke of laughter follows, as she lets the opening drop closed behind her, coming over to settle beside her son and cradle him gently, as if he was two moons and not twenty. the curl of her fingers caress the soft curve of his cheek, trace over the vallaslin and she leans forward, light blonde hair coming to brush over his forehead as fianna presses a kiss there.  _ promise me you’ll return, da’len. i do not know if i could make this lifetime without you _ .

the next morning they are packed and ready to set off on the journey, and she has spent that morning fluttering around them with a sickness in her stomach. she does not want any of them to go, let the shemlen destroy themselves, do not let them take her beloved ones with them. just as the party are to set off, fianna reaches out, grasps her son’s face in her hands and dark eyes are wide with pure fear. _return to me, da’len. promise me._  a gentle laugh follows, and her strong beloved boy smiles as he presses a kiss to her cheek, freckled cheeks blushed and blue eyes alight with excitement. _i will return mamae. someone needs to keep an eye on alessa._  a shout of protest in the background, and ruari winks at his mother’s apprentice, who’s currently glaring at him, but a hint of a smirk on her lips. the party turn, and move away from the clan’s settlement, and fianna has to steel herself to stop herself from collapsing in tears. in her whispers, she offers up a quick prayer to mythal, praying that she will protect her son from harm. that he will return home safe.

two weeks later, they hear of the explosion at the conclave, and how all except for one were dead -- the only survivor a dalish elf they were calling the herald. fianna is harsh and quick as she presses for more information, tears in her eyes. when the shemlen tells her more of the herald, a blonde elf with strange markings on her face, her hold on her grief breaks. her son is gone, he is dead. she falls to the floor, head bowed as the tears fall freely, face twisted in grief, with alessa’s arm around her shoulder. it does not matter, nothing matters no more, how could it? 

her beautiful ruari was  _ dead _ .

pulling herself from the memories, fianna feels the coolness of tears drying on her cheeks, and does not move to wipe them away. her grief had been heavy on her for many months after she and alessa tracked hael and celebrian to haven, and she had been recluse from everyone to try and process her broken heart. now in skyhold, feeling the old energies of their home and opening more to her last clan members, she felt some parts of her heart beginning to stitch together. _s_ _ ome of them _ . grabbing the last item from her cloth roll, the cedar branch and anthurium petals, she brought them to her lips and whispered a prayer.  _ in falon’din’s abscence, may this guide you to the beyond and to rest, my darling son _ . imbued with her magick once again, fianna pressed the branch and petals into the earth, pointing east. where the sun rises, that will guide you home. mournfully, she finishes the lullaby. ‘ _ tel’enfinem da’len, irassal ma ghilas. ma garas mir renan -- ara ma’athlan vhenas, ara ma’athlan vhenas. _ ’

for a moment, she rests on her knees and stares at the grave, more tears coming to bear the brunt of her sorrow. in an ideal world, she would never of lost her son to a shemlen war, but this was no ideal world and she must move on if she is to survive. pressing a kiss to the engraved stone, she lingers a moment longer before getting to her feet, turning on her heel.

wandering back through skyhold’s forecourt, she hears the buzzing of heady conversation and alcohol fuelled antics from the tavern, mostly the rambunctious shouting of joy from alessa. that child would always be the center of attention, dragging other people into fits of laughter with her antics. looking up from there, she sees celebrian, perched on the edge of the ramparts with a smile on her face, hand resting over the commander’s. they’re speaking words fianna cannot hear, which she is glad for because a private moment between someone and their beloved should be cherished and given privacy. turning to walk up the stairs, she sees hael at the doors, arms cradling her chest as she looks up to the sky.

walking forward, fianna settles beside her friend,  _ lethallin _ . hael doesn’t turn her head, but reaches out to take the elder’s hand, gently. smiling, Fianna presses a kiss to the blonde’s temple, and looks up to the sky also. ‘i saw you at the grave, hahren. ruari was … a brave man. a loyal friend. i wish he’d survived.’ hael turns to look at her, slate blue eyes soft and full of the emotions and responsibilties weighing her down as inquisitor, and friend. fianna shakes her head, pulls the younger into a tight embrace. 

  
‘my boy is safe now in the beyond, lethallin. do not fret for the dead, not when so many of the living are dependent on you.’ hael nods, and burrows further into the elder woman, allowing herself this moment of vulnerability. fianna sees the burden Hael carries, and this one, this grief she will carry for her, for all of them. they stay like that, standing embrace under the light of the stars, mourning for someone who should be there beside them.


End file.
